


Under Heavy Skies

by DeanOh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF!Cas, Fantasy AU, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Secret Relationship, Smut, Some angst, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, i think so, i'm not a great writer lets be honest, in a world i created, it's basically fantasy, knight!cas, oh man this gon be super cool, prince!Dean, sorry for my insufferable need to do some worlbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9392255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanOh/pseuds/DeanOh
Summary: Dean Winchester is a Prince-in-ruling, set out to do some good for his people and his country. Due to circumstances, he has to face the consequences of very bad decisions. Particularly one: his secret relationship with one of his Knights, Castiel Novak. Their love story is still blooming, and hardships are underway, making Dean tear himself up between choices he's not ready to think about yet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Downwiththewind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Downwiththewind/gifts).



> I'm pinch hitting for a dropout, and I'm gladly writing a gift based on this prompt:  
> Au!Prince Dean and Knight Cas started seeing each other in secret. 5 times they managed to fool everybody and one time they didn't.
> 
> I'm sorry in advance, because I'm testing out my own world for this fic, with some world-building. Porn with plot, basically! The title of this fic is from "Lights Down Low by MAX"
> 
> I really really hope you like this, and Happy Late Holidays!

 

Castiel's never been afraid of heights. On the contrary; whenever they're up high with the Council, Castiel takes his precious time to go out through the man-made balcony, standing close to the edge without any protection, and thinks it'd be a long way down if he fell. A rush of adrenaline never fails to soar through his whole body. The Kingdom of Jarsaki takes pride in dozens of stone Giants surrounding the country, most of them untouched due to the olden days of worship, yet a few were sacrificed for security measures. The one used by the Council has been polished through the ages, guarded stairs sculpted out of the stone that once was alive, with hand-made chambers for the royal family. Castiel's standing guard during one of the meetings concerning attacks from the West, and treaties with the Zhwai tribes out East. He's allowed to breathe and relax once the heavy-set oak doors close behind him, and he's left alone with his thoughts and the open terrace through one of the Giant's eyes.

Today, the Giant is half-covered in clouds, his hands outstretched into the sky, with birds abandoning their usual perching places for some better air down below. The winds are strong, the sound of howling loud and booming, making Castiel think of the only person in Jarsaki to stand inside of the safest place in the world, all while being terrified of the stone crashing down on him.

Castiel can't hear anything inside of the chamber, and doesn't bother listening in. He'll hear enough in the evening, usually from gossip around the other Knights.

He's dressed in black leather armor, intricately put together to show who he's serving. Well, Jarsaki are fond of black, but the leather is hard to acquire, hard to sew, and hard to wear. Gods, even after years of wear, Castiel can't stand the way the leather sticks to his skin, how annoying it is to get it off him at the end of the day. There are perks though; the color compliments his overall physique, his blue eyes, and strong legs. The leather hugs his muscles nicely enough for the only man Castiel thinks about before he goes to sleep.

He's not the only Knight on the top floor of the Giant. There's Charlie, who has a death-wish as it seems, because she's strolled to the terrace, standing in the middle of a cloud and laughing like a child. If Castiel didn't know her, he'd think she's incompetent to guard the royal family, but she's saved his ass more times than he can count.

Castiel sighs. “Please don't die, I'm not ready to train a new guard for Sam.”

Charlie emerges from the cloud, and walks inside, her hair slightly damp. “They wouldn't want a new Knight for guard, they'd have you.”

Giving her a smile, Castiel leans back on the stone wall, cold to the touch. “I can't guard two people at once, I'm incapable of dealing with twice the enemies.”

“Please,” Charlie says, rolling her eyes. “I've seen you spear four people with one broken hand.”

“Amateur work,” Castiel says.

Charlie hums, amused. She looks longingly at the mist of a cloud, and sighs, glancing at Castiel. “You think Sam's going to make a deal with the Zhwai?”

Castiel shrugs. “I wish they didn't,” he says. “But whatever Sam decides to do means it's essential to Jarsaki. They would be of great help with their ships.”

Charlie bites her thumb, her red hair framing her face quite nicely. “At what cost? People wouldn't be happy.”

“They should trust their Prince.”

Charlie levels him with a look. “They trusted their King, and look where it got them.”

Castiel thinks about King John, and his dark eyes, and the day he left everything behind to go and find his wife, Mary. The Queen Crow herself has been lost for too long, but John was adamant about finding her. Dean and Sam were too young to rule, thrown into the world of politics with no prior experience.

The meeting goes on for a few hours, letting Castiel and Charlie relax and talk about their duties. Charlie tells him about all the books Sam's been reading before sleep, and Castiel talks about Dean's reoccurring dreams of fire.

Being a Knight meant you'd become family with whoever you're in service with. Castiel's been working with Charlie ever since they got appointed for the royal family, joining Benny and Meg in their duties with Council members. Castiel considers Charlie a sister, Benny a distant cousin, and Meg... Meg he never really got familial ties with. Friendship, yes. Family, no.

Charlie has been there for him through thick and thin, as was he. They make a great team.

Then, the doors are opening, and servants escort the Council members outside, carrying their bags of paper, and jugs of wine or water with them. All dressed in royal black, they look like a sea of crows, earning the name given to them by the whole world. The Jarsaki Crows.

Sam goes out after them, carrying a batch of books and quills. Charlie helps him instantly. Noticing something's off, Castiel stops Sam with one hand. “You're stressed,” he says, eyes searching.

Sam, who's just nineteen, still a child, avoids looking Castiel in the eye. “We've come up with a solution for Zhwai. Dean's...not taking it so well.”

Castiel glances at the chamber nervously, seeing an oval wood table with golden-edged chairs, but Dean's nowhere to be seen. “What happened? Is he alright?”

Sam shakes his head. “He'll tell you himself, I think,” he says. “Listen, I know it's a hard decision for him, but it's the only way out of this mess. We need the Zhwai ships, and we need them fast. Please talk to him.”

“Alright,” Castiel says, nodding. He leaves Charlie and Sam be, walks inside of the chambers to find Dean Winchester, Prince-in-ruling, pouring golden mead into a cup from a jug, his back to the entrance.

Dean's always looked amazing in all black robes, the silk almost see-through, and his breeches made out of dark Jarsaki metal. He's never over-dressed, never wears any jewelry the other Council members are so fond of wearing, and never complains when he's dealing with Castiel's leather. He's patient where it counts, and hot-headed where it's unnecessary.

“My Prince,” Castiel announces himself.

Dean doesn't turn to him. “Close the door.”

Castiel obeys in an instant. After they're alone in the chamber, illuminated only by the open windows etched into stone, Castiel lets his guard down. “What happened? Sam's worried about the decision, and wants me to talk you into it.”

Dean drinks his mead in one gulp, and sets the cup down on the table loudly. Then, he turns to Castiel, his green eyes furious, face contorted in visible unease. He's beautiful, with his tan skin, the freckles peppering his skin, and Castiel's distracted again.

Dean walks over to him in a hurry, a new-found energy Castiel's only ever seen a few times. Dean's unrestrained desire looks like a battle plan in motion; fluid, restless, unavoidable.

Not that Castiel's complaining. He craves Dean's touch every second of every day, and when he gets it, it feels like a storm is taking him off his feet, his body burns with the need to love and be loved back. Dean asks, and Castiel gives.

They've been at it for the whole summer, ever since Dean got drunk in their summer getaway, and kissed him with the sea behind their backs.

“I'm so fucking pissed,” Dean murmurs when his hands reach for Castiel's waist, and his lips press against Castiel's neck.

Castiel breathes out shakily. “I can tell.”

Dean kisses Castiel's jaw, then his cheek, then the corner of his lips. It's deliberate, because Dean knows what makes Castiel tick, knows every way Castiel likes to be touched. Which is why Castiel uses all of his own knowledge about Dean's body, and he pulls Dean closer harshly, just the way he likes. Dean's answering moan is low, makes Castiel tingle with the need to _take_ and _take now_.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts. “We can't do this here,” he says. “I can't erase your thoughts, and I'd like to kiss you when you're aware of what you're doing.”

Dean doesn't stop kissing Castiel's skin. “I want you. Here. Now.”

Castiel's weak. He thinks what Charlie would say if she knew his deepest secret. How would their conversation go? _Oh, did I tell you? I'm fucking the prince-in-ruling._ _I may be kind of in love with him, too_.

Dean doesn't wait for Castiel's answer, and moves in for a soft kiss on the lips, their mouths fitting together with fervent _want_. Castiel can never get enough of kissing Dean, tasting him. Now, he enjoys the mead still lingering on Dean's tongue, still slightly aware of the area they're in. If anyone walked in, they'd both be fucked. Castiel would lose everything he's worked for, and Dean would be ridiculed. He's already walking on a thin line with the Jarsaki people, and relations with his own Knight wouldn't help him one bit.

Dean draws back a little, stares into Castiel's eyes. He's hurting, Castiel realizes. _Why? Why are you hurting?_

“They're going to be looking for us,” Castiel says quietly. Dean listens, but doesn't seem to understand.

“Touch me,” Dean says, voice barely there. He's holding on so strongly, but hides his true emotions well. “Then take me to my rooms and fuck me until I can't feel my legs anymore. I'm _begging_ you here.”

Castiel's never heard him like this. It takes him completely by surprise, but the way Dean's asking strikes an arrow through Castiel's heart, and he moves his hand delicately, deliberately pushing Dean's black silk cloak away, fingers pushing against Dean's stomach. Lightly dragging the tips of his fingers down, Castiel finds Dean's breeches, undoes them like he's done a hundred times already, and feels Dean's breath hitch.

Palming Dean, he feels his cock growing, and Dean's moan feels hot against Castiel's neck. Fingers wrap around Dean's length, twisting a little with ease. Dean answers the same as he always does – he bites Castiel's earlobe and starts working on Castiel's leather armor.

Castiel's growing hard himself as he strokes Dean into hardness, relishing how Dean's hips move along with his hand, their breathing mingling together when Dean kisses Castiel again. Dean's patience shows when he's still trying to unlace the ties on Castiel's leather pants, knuckles brushing against Castiel's dick now and then.

Castiel likes this, likes the closeness, likes how Dean's cock feels in his hand, and wants to taste it the way he tastes Dean when he kisses him. But they've got no time, only borrowed minutes of precious privacy, so when Dean finally gets through Castiel's armor, they're both almost bursting.

Dean kisses like he's dying, and Castiel bites his lip, hard.

He knows exactly when Dean's ready to let go. The way his hand tightens around Castiel's dick, when he lets his head fall back, and the kissing stops. Dean's mouth opens, eyes close, eyebrows furrow. His body grows stiff under Castiel's ministrations, so Castiel keeps the pace, knows it's exactly the way Dean likes, and is rewarded with warm liquid covering his hand, Dean's bliss evident on his face. Castiel loves everything about this, enjoys it to the point where he's coming himself, unable to keep himself intact any longer.

They're breathing hard, coming down from their high, silent with their happiness.

But once it's done, Dean's face softens in the way it's promising, but of nothing good. Castiel looks at him like he's thirsty, eyes asking for answers, but Dean fits their foreheads together, refuses to talk, refuses to even utter a single word.

Castiel knows Dean's not going to talk through the night. He knows his mouth will open only in the early hours of the morning, when they're lying in bed together, wrapped around each other, and staying silent makes no sense.

Castiel grabs one of the handkerchiefs placed next to the mead, and cleans them both up. Then, he kisses Dean's cheek, and says. “Let me take you to your rooms,” he says. “Talk when you're ready.”

Dean kisses him before letting Castiel do his job, escorting him down the spiral staircase going so far down it takes them half an hour to even reach Dean's rooms.

Castiel's afraid, and he doesn't know of what.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay! And sorry if my english is kinda bad, I'm not a native speaker. I hope you enjoy!

Dean can't sleep, so Castiel stays up with him, ignoring protocol. Dean's room is the epitome of royalty, all silk and gold, the windows decorated in colored glass depicting Giants before the Calamity. Castiel has always liked the stories about Giants before they turned to stone, how Jarsaki worshiped them, earning gifts. The Giant the royal family lives in used to be one of the best artists in the world of Serotonia, creating entire cities and mountains with their hands, helping people in need of a home. On a good day, you can see dirt still stuck under their nails. There's no way to tell if they were a woman, or a man. Stories never tell.

Dean's skin is warm against his, they're huddled under the sheets, looking at each other in the dim lights, a new morning rising.

“When you were a kid,” Dean starts, brushing a thumb on Castiel's lips. “Did you think you'd become a Knight?”

“I didn't have a choice,” Castiel answers, closing his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Dean touching him. “I've known ever since I started talking. My parents brought me to one of the Crow Mothers for assessment the day after I was born, and they chose a name fit for a Knight.”

Dean visibly shudders as Castiel looks at him again. “Ugh. I don't like dealing with them. Their eyes always creep me out.”

“Charlie's complained about it after accompanying Sam to approve of the list of trainees for this year. I don't remember what they look like.”

Dean entwines their fingers together, and gives a small kiss to Castiel's knuckles. “I'm sure you've heard the legends surrounding them. Eyes like the black sea, feathers growing on their cheeks. They don't have _teeth_.”

“Why would they? I've heard they feed on freshly dead souls.”

Dean snorts. “ _That_ may be the worst lie I've ever heard. They eat like us, except, you know, mashed. The Mothers lose their teeth once they become one with the Crows.”

“You can't blame people for speculating,” Castiel answers. “The Crow Mothers never leave their dungeons, and never show themselves to those who come bearing their children for Knighthood. They're legendary for a reason.”

“I thank the skies everyday for their allergy to light,” Dean breathes out. “Although I'm grateful they decided to approve you.”

Castiel kisses Dean, slowly. With feeling. “Dean Winchester. I was born to serve you. Even if I wasn't given a choice, I'd still follow you to the ends of this world.”

Dean tenses up, but doesn't draw his eyes away from Castiel's. He hasn't said anything about the Council's decision, and Castiel doesn't push. He doesn't like that Dean's once again choosing to suffer alone, but respects his decision as a good soldier should. Although a good soldier wouldn't be lying around with a Prince-in-ruling in the early morning.

“The Council has decided to welcome the Zhwai delegation with some festivities. Sam's taking care of it.”

“Shouldn't you join him?”

“I should. Doesn't mean I will.”

“Dean,” Castiel says, worried. “Your people are already doubting your rule. Your participation would mean you're ready to take John's place and secure the future of Jarsaki.”

Dean's silence is deafening for a few moments. “I'm willing to do anything for this country, but not what they're asking me for.”

Castiel waits, but it never comes. Dean just leans in, kisses Castiel, and then rolls over, turning his back to his lover. Castiel lies there, watching Dean's breath even out, then listens to the sounds of life outside of the Giant.

* * *

Castiel leaves Dean sleeping so that he can attend the weekly briefings. He tells the two Knights at Dean's door to alert him once Dean awakens, and leaves the Giant through the kitchens, the fastest way to the Knight Guild.

The Guild stands between the two feet of the second Giant, marginally smaller than the home of the royal family, almost always covered in shadows. The city has more than ten Giants forever frozen in place. Castiel imagines it must have been hard for the Jarsaki to say goodbye to their olden Gods, but the belief system changed throughout the years of them standing silently, covered in clouds and harsh sunlight. Some Giants were never touched by the human hand, but some endured sculpting, thieves stealing their very precious Hearts, and people settling with the idea of the Giants never awakening again. Castiel looks up to see the gaping hole where a Heart used to be. He's seen a piece of a Heart once in his life, when King John left his crown for Dean to wear. Ever since that day, Castiel's never seen the ever-changing color of the gem, carefully polished to fit in the middle of the crown.

The Guild is snug in between two feet, and Castiel marches in with a few other Knights that join him.

“Castiel!” one of them says, and Castiel turns to see Benny. “Damn, what a wild ride yesterday, huh?”

“Dean's shaken about everything,” Castiel agrees. They walk inside of the Guild, and find themselves in a delicately decorated foyer with marble stairs leading up. “I've gotten word of festivities for the Zhwai.”

Benny walks up the stairs, fixing his leather belts and holding on to one of his swords. “Not sure it's smart inviting the fuckers up here. Gods, I can't believe Dean's agreeing to Zhwai's proposal.”

“They've given a proposal?” Castiel asks, surprised. “I thought the Council offered them a treaty.”

Benny stops on top of the stairs, letting the other Knights go around them both. Nobody bothers their rank. “Dean hasn't told you yet?”

Castiel's heart starts beating faster. “He hasn't told me anything. He seemed worried, I didn't want to push his boundaries.”

“Oh, brother,” Benny's apologetic look scares the shit out of Castiel. “Dean's been offered a bride, a daughter of their leader.”

Castiel's body goes numb. “A bride.”

“Hard to process, I know,” Benny says, and squeezes Castiel's shoulder. “A Jarsaki prince marrying Zhwai scum? The most fucked up thing about this whole ordeal is the fact that we need their alliance against Nethereal. Still doesn't sit right with me.”

It doesn't sit right with Castiel either. Everything he's feeling is pain, heartbreak, and then anger. It's hard to breathe, but once Benny moves to the Guild Hall to join the other Knights, Castiel follows him with his mind a jumbled mess of thoughts he can't control.

He doesn't remember anything from the Briefing, and answers the Elders automatically once he's asked about Dean's health and prosperity. Castiel doesn't speak to anyone again, not until his hand heats up, an alarm from one of the Guards. Once he's back to Dean's room, he doesn't meet Dean's eyes, and Dean doesn't touch him.

Dean gives Castiel space when it's something Castiel doesn't want.

 

* * *

 

Another Council meeting, and today, the terrace is free of clouds, pleasantly bright with the sun shining upon the Giant. He stands there with Charlie, overlooking the city and the other Giants looming in the distance. For once, Castiel understands the anger and hurt on their faces.

“I can't believe Dean's marrying a Zhwai woman,” Charlie begins, her arms crossed on her chest. “Gods won't be happy with their kind mingling with ours.”

“It must be done,” Castiel says, the bittersweet taste on his tongue making him choke on his thoughts. “Two nations against Nethereal is better than the alternative.”

“What's the point? We're accepting their filthy magic into our blood. What's better, dying with our pride intact, or the Zhwai families wrecking havoc on our precious lands?”

“Their magic is dying,” Castiel says. It's hard to breathe here, but he welcomes the pain. “Most of the families that spoke the old tongue moved over to Salitia and Wandithu. What we're accepting is their aid against a war we cannot win alone.”

“I don't trust them,” Charlie says. “Even if the Zhwai are saying they've moved on from their cursed language.”

“I trust the Council,” Castiel says, closing his eyes against the wind. He hears the doors of the Chambers opening, and continues, “I will protect the Winchester family with my life, even if one of them is Zhwai.”

He turns to see Dean standing in between the doors, wide eyed. Castiel catches his gaze, breathing in harshly through his nose. Dean's eyes tell him everything. He's hurt beyond anything Castiel can handle.

Sam follows through, and Charlie moves to meet them both. He stops Dean with a hand on his shoulder, and says to Castiel. “You're needed in the Council room. Charlie and I will go downstairs with Dean. I've already called for Guards.”

Castiel nods, and his hand brushes Dean's when he goes inside of the chamber. The Council members all nod when he stands in front of them.

“Castiel Novak,” the chairwoman of the Council, Ellen, addresses him. She's holding a cup of mead in her hand, and a quill in the other. “I trust you have been briefed about the wedding of Dean Winchester and Cassiopeia of the Zhwai.”

“Yes,” Castiel answers. The woman has a name that resembles his, he thinks.

She sighs. Castiel feels uncomfortable when he's standing in front of the whole Council, twenty people sitting in a circle, all drinking and deciding the future of Jarsaki together. “Due to our sudden circumstances, we have been advised to assign a second Knight to guard the Princess. Unusual as it is, we have decided to have you choose the best match for yourself.”

Castiel's confused. He's never heard of a Knight guarding a foreign princess, even if she's the wife of a Prince-in-ruling. There have been Guards for Queen Mary, a woman of Salitian descent, but no Knight could guard a person of blood that wasn't Jarsaki. “Wouldn't that be against everything the Crow Mothers ask us to do?”

Ellen meets him with a harsh eye. “The Crow Mothers are superstitious. We see no harm in taking care of a new addition to the Winchester family.”

Castiel gapes. “It wouldn't be wise considering the consequences we would face.”

“Do you believe in old stories, Castiel?”

“They _are_ based on the warnings the Giants left for us before the Calamity, I'm afraid we are not making a right decision here – “

Ellen silences him with a raised hand, and Castiel feels his heart stop for a second. The fear climbs up his stomach, settles in his lungs. The idea of defying the Knight laws crumbles him.

“We know this goes against everything you stand for,” Ellen says apologetically. “But we are on a brink of war. Protecting the Prince-in-ruling, and the Princess-in-ruling is of essence, and requires change.”

Castiel doesn't get a say in this, and leaves the chamber with a heavy heart. He's afraid of whatever lies ahead, he's more than terrified of defying the Crow Mothers, but the one thing he's scared most of is watching Dean marry a person who isn't him.

 

* * *

 

Castiel enters Dean's quarters, avoiding looking at their still rumpled bed. Dean's wearing one of his see-through cloaks again, embroidered with a story about a man who died protecting the Giants. Dean's holding a bottle of mead, opting for a quick drink instead of filling a cup.

“They've asked you to choose a Knight for a Zhwai,” Dean says, and sits down on one of the bright red cushions on the ground. Castiel stands guard, refusing to budge from the door. “Mom didn't get the luxury, but my soon-to-be wife stands between an old curse and lack of safety.”

Castiel breathes in. “A Knight is born to protect royal Jarsaki blood,” he recites. “The Zhwai woman may be royal, but she does not have Winchester blood flowing through her. I'm breaking an ancient pact.”

Dean smiles against his cup, but it doesn't look cheerful. “Her name sounds like yours. Cassie, they call her.”

Castiel feels nothing but rage when he hears her name. “Surely she is a great match for you.”

Dean's angry gaze meets Castiel's, and he grips the bottle tighter. “Tell me,” he hisses through his teeth. “How am I going to stand before our Gods with her hand covering mine? Explain to me how I'm going to wear the black armor my Father left me, and hear our people sing while we dance under the waterfall of Guidance? All while _you_ stand on the sidelines, the only one I'd rather see standing under that fucking water with me.”

Castiel's just as angry, fuming inside. His fist clenches, his heart hammers against his ribs, and all he sees is red, red, red. “What am I supposed to do? I didn't ask for you to wrap me around your finger, Dean! I didn't ask for any of the feelings I feel for you, and I sure as shit didn't ask for a Zhwai woman to take you as her husband. You don't get to put the blame on anyone but yourself. _You_ agreed to this wedding.”

“I **didn't** ,” Dean suddenly roars, and throws the bottle against a wall. It smashes into a thousand pieces, and the golden mead stains the stone. “I didn't agree to anything! Sam has been promised, and the Council had nothing to lose. They're making me marry our enemy, without asking how I feel about any of this!”

Castiel throws his hands up. “Because they know what's at stake. As much as it kills me, the Council is right to begin a treaty with the Zhwai.”

“You're giving me up just like that?” Dean shouts. “Does this – “ he gestures between both of them. “ – mean anything to you?”

Castiel raises his own voice. “It means the  _ world _ to me, but who am I to threaten the safety of our entire nation just so I could be with a man I'm not even allowed to love?” he breathes hard. “There is  _ no _ way out of this. Nothing we can do. What would you choose – the death of Jarsaki, or a flourishing country with a powerful ally?”

Dean takes a few broad steps, furious, and grabs Castiel's face. “I'd choose you over everything,” Dean spits out with venom lining his words. “I'd welcome death with open arms if it meant I could be with you.”

Castiel grabs Dean's hands, covers them with his, similar to the gesture in a Jarsaki wedding. He's fighting the rage inside, and looks at Dean with pain unmasked. “It's not our choice to make,” he says, quietly, voice straining. 

Then, Dean kisses him, ever so slightly. It gets worse knowing there's nothing they could do to change this, and their time together is precious. Dean's hands wander down, patient as always, and Castiel lets his touch linger. 

It hurts knowing Dean's touching him because his heart is breaking, and it hurts knowing Castiel's letting him do it just so he doesn't forget what it feels like. 

Castiel doesn't notice when tears start running down his cheeks. 

 


End file.
